


A Sum of Parts

by whiterabbit1613



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Double Penetration, M/M, Multi, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiterabbit1613/pseuds/whiterabbit1613
Summary: This perhaps explains why it's so easy for Cas to share himself out between the two of them, to offer his body as a bridge between Sam and Dean when nothing else can cross the gap.





	A Sum of Parts

Once Castiel grasps the concept of sex, he goes at it with a terrifyingly no-holds-barred approach. There's seemingly no difference, for him, between French kissing and eating Dean out long and unbearably slow; no difference between plain vanilla missionary and being tied up and held down and fucked open quick and dirty. It's as though his lack of preconceived notions lets him shape every encounter to fit his narrative, his needs.

This perhaps explains why it's so easy for Cas to share himself out between the two of them, to offer his body as a bridge between Sam and Dean when nothing else can cross the gap.

It's sometimes literal -- Dean fucking frantically into the warm, slicked clench of Cas' ass, watching Sam, crowded up against the headboard and feeding his dick to Cas in one smooth press. Sam croons filthy praise as he strokes the distended column of Cas' throat -- _you take me all in so good, angel, no one else can swallow my cock like you do_ \-- and the docile flutter of Castiel's eyelashes makes Dean's blood run hot and cold at the same time. Afterwards, Cas puts himself back to rights, shrugs into his trench coat and looks like an accountant again, no sign of the come- and spit-soaked entity he'd been moments before.

Sometimes, it's the two of them sitting in a bar in the aftermath of a hunt, Sam terse and snippy and staring into his beer, Dean his usual manic post-adrenaline-rush flirtatious self. And then Castiel is there, rustle of invisible feathers lost in the crowd's chatter. "You're both alright," he says, no hint of a question mark about it, and places a hand on Sam's forearm, one on Dean's thigh. Sam flashes him a small, tight smile but orders them all a round.

Once, Dean and Sam haven't spoken in a week, but the three of them are tangled up together in bed -- Sam pressed tight along Cas' back, cock nestled up snug inside, Dean rutting against Cas' hip like a man possessed. Castiel grabs Dean's dick, vise-hard, and says, "You love me," and Dean babbles _yes, yes_. "You love Sam," Cas continues, brooking no argument. Dean gasps and says nothing, so Castiel says it again, holding Dean still, denying him 'til he hears.

"Yes, of course I fucking do," Dean grits out, green eyes lust-hazy and anger-dark.

Cas looks pleased; loosens his grasp on Dean's cock and guides it down between his own legs, where it bumps against Sam's dick and the taut edge of Cas' filled hole. Sam moves to pull out, to cede his claim to Castiel's body, but Cas grips his hip and holds him firmly in place. "No, I want you both," he says. So Dean finds himself pressed into an impossibly tight space, he and Sam cussing and sweating through the hot sweet push into Cas' pliant form. Cas doesn't hiss or moan, just lets out little sighs of contentment now and then, and though his face is wet when Dean kisses it, his expression is blissful. Afterwards, there's a bruise on Sam's hip with the five distinct marks of Castiel's fingertips. Cas shakes himself like a bird settling its feathers, and is gone.

It takes Sam and his big brain awhile to catch on, which amuses Dean. He's long since connected the dots into a rather mystifying picture, one where Castiel regularly offers himself as the outlet for all of their frustration -- with no discernible goal but to be reduced to a trembling, fucked-out wreck by the end of the encounter.

"What do you get out of this, Cas?" Sam asks whisper-soft one night, fingers tangling with Dean's as they play through the damp curls at the nape of Castiel's neck. Cas is rosy-cheeked and sated, but as closed a book as ever.

Cas seems to think about this, and says, "You are so much greater than the sum of your parts." With a sudden burst of energy, he grabs the brothers' hands from behind his head and squeezes their fingers together, bringing them to his heart. "I keep hoping you might see that, if I can only distract you from the rest of the world long enough."

Dean isn't sure if it's working. But sometimes he catches Sam's eye and thinks, hey, it might.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Just started writing again after a looong absence from fic. This is not my usual fare -- I have about 10 long-format semi-comedic SPN fics in the works, but this weird little kinda-angsty thing insisted on being written. 
> 
> A random observation: My biggest challenge with SPN is that I watched the whole series at once, so making stories at all time-specific is basically impossible. I need a timeline of when people were and were not mad at each other lol.


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